What Older Brothers Shouldn't Hear
by Suffocated Entity
Summary: Lovino learns the hard way why it is vital to always hang up when a conversation is over.


What Older Brothers Shouldn't Hear

-

Since the first time he became acquainted with the infamous Ludwig, the very same German his brother was so keen about, Lovino had always harbored strong feelings towards that particular blonde.

Lovino despised him.

Oh so passionately, too.

Feliciano had always been an important factor in his life. They shared the same blood, after all. As a brother, it was his very duty to protect his younger sibling; to ward off any unpleasantries and possible dangers that could irritate or have the slightest fraction of potential to irritate the northern Italian.

Was he protective? Of course. Possessive? Maybe. Yet, it didn't matter what a person could dub his affections. No adjective affiliated with any language could change the fact that Lovino thought he was damn good at his job as an elder brother.

Those instincts to shelter his _fratello _never flared brighter when that bastard potato was with his Feliciano. So it was no mystery why the older Italian fumed as he tightly pressed the receiver of the telephone to his ear, so close the object was practically infused with his skin as the younger babbled on effervescently about how wonderful that bastard was; how nice he was, how tidy his clothes were, how good he was at tying shoelaces... It was a continuous cycle of falsely given praise that made Lovino want to hack. That _fuck _of a potato had his precious brother hypnotized. He had brainwashed him, and that was simply unforgivable.

Feliciano chirped happily from the other line. "Brother! Brother! You should come over an stay with us! Ludwig's house is so big! We could have pasta every night together, sleep in the same room, have picnics, and do fun things like the old days~! _Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?_"

"NO! Feliciano, that freak is nothing but trouble!"

Why couldn't Feliciano understand how malignant Ludwig was to him?

The younger's whine sliced through the receiver and into Lovino's ear harshly. "Eh?! I've told you he's nice! Why won't you leave him alone?"

A tired voice cut in. "Feliciano, don't bother hi-"

The mere sound of that bastard's voice sent him into blind fury. "YOU! SHUT YOUR FAT MOUTH, YOU FUCK! DON'T YOU DARE SAY A WORD! NO ONE WAS SPEAKING TO YOU"

"Brother! Don't say things like that!"

"Shut up! You don't know what's good for you!" Slamming the phone down onto the table, yet not hanging it up and terminating the conversation, which would have been wise, Lovino puffed out his chest and crossed his arms, mumbling filthy words past his lips and cursing that hellish blonde to the most disturbing, most sufferable level of hell.

It was a few minutes before the seemingly endless strand of profanity was cut short. Breathing in deeply, Lovino composed himself. It was all that German's fault, anyway. If he wasn't always oppressing his little _fratello _then he would not always find himself this pissed. Arms still crossed at his chest, Lovino glowered down at the telephone, wondering silently if his homicidal thoughts had the ability to go through the telephone and strangle that horrible man.

Just as he was about to hang up the phone and even further distance himself from that potato's house, something stopped his now outstretched arm in its tracks. A sound so faint, like a whisper, was coming through the phone. Lovino blinked curiously, straining his head and ear forward as he tried to clearly hear the hushed sound.

"-dwig, I don't know why brother is so mean to you."

"It's not his fault if he doesn't like me."

_Damn straight I don't like you._

"But, but, you didn't do anything wrong!"

"I know, but I don't believe I can do anything to change his mind."

Lovino was about to intervene and scream at the German, uttering all the things he loathed about the blonde. His mouth was even open to do so when he was completely caught off guard.

"Nnghhh...."

_Was that a... a...?_

"Ludwig... st-stop... we didn't hang up... the phone... "

Lovino could see the disgusting smirk horrendously swiped along the German's lips. "Your brother hung up. We're absolutely fine."

_YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BE FINE WHEN I KILL YOU, YOU FUCK! _The olive color of the elder's eyes sparked violently, his jaw tight and his fists clenched. How dare that filth touch his brother like that! When a person says 'stop', and the other doesn't, that counts as rape. Feliciano had told that degenerate to stop, and he didn't.

Lovino gasped.

_That fucking potato was raping his brother._

"You really like it when I play with this hair, right?" A small whine was heard from the other end directly after the other finished his sentence.

_Dear God. _Germany _was._

_"_Ludwig..."

The blonde was laughing now, his voice blended with static. "How is it possible one single hair can reduce you to this?" A shift in position, and his brother didn't skip a beat, mewling through what sounded like his teeth. "Has it always been like this?"

"What?"

"Your hair." Ludwig sighed. "Did this always feel good?"

"Oh... Oh! Yeah..."

He didn't need to tell him that! The bastard didn't need to know!

"Your brother has one of these, too. Is it the same for him?"

"Mhm..."

Lovino's face heated up, coloring darkly to resemble a tomato. He didn't need to tell him that, _either!!_

The older Italian had grabbed the phone, holding it close to his ear just like he did during their previous conversation, listening silently. He could hear the hurried pants and whines from his brother, the lips he protected so gallantly murmuring the name of that bastard every now and then. Everything; every little action was audible. Lovino's throat was dry. He was too shocked to be infuriated. Sure, that pathetic excuse of a nation was not allowed to be touching his brother by any means, but the elder couldn't find it within himself to scream at the two boys through the phone. His stomach churned anxiously, listening to his brother's noises escalating every so often.

Fabric rustled on the other end, a metallic click followed by a choked gasp. "T-touch me, Ludwig..."

The German said nothing. Then, suddenly out of nowhere, Lovino's heart rate increased and his face burned when a fleshy, squelchy rhythm met his unexpected ears.

_Dear God._

The elder's hands shook, mouth open in incredulity as his _fratello _cried out. Lovino was speechless. He couldn't hang up the phone.

He couldn't move, actually.

The wet tempo only increased by time, along with his brother's constant pleas. It disgusted him. It revolted him. It made him want to retch. A slur of heated German started to pour in from the other side, and at that point, Lovino almost vomited.

"Ludwig! Per favore, più!"

"Wirklich?"

"Sì!"

"Wenn Sie es sagen." Ludwig's voice portrayed his grin, the fleshy sounds only increasing in volume. Lovino gulped as his brother cried out twice as loud as before, his tone wavering as it increased in pitch.

The older Italian never felt so disgraceful.

He was listening to his brother get off by the hands of his own greatest enemy. The worst part was, he just couldn't find the strength to pull away.

Some older brother he turned out to be.

"_Ludwig!" _

_That's it. _With an embarrassed sigh, dropping the phone back onto the table, Lovino didn't even hang it up . He didn't even finish listening to the rest of the ordeal, either. He didn't _want to._ His brother's near-end whines broke the last straw. Gathering up the courage, Lovino screamed, "I'LL KILL YOU BOTH!" before walking away with whatever innocence he had left.

On the other end of the line, Ludwig's face was a deathly pale.


End file.
